


golden ashes turn to dust

by catgirlnya



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Gen, I haven't decided, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Roommates, Secret Identity, Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner's A+ Parenting, Slow Burn, Swearing, adora somehow manages to save the world while going to school, no editing we die like men, possibly eventual smut, well kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29791110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catgirlnya/pseuds/catgirlnya
Summary: Adora is the universally adored superheroine known as She-Ra. Catra is the villain-slash-reluctant-vigilante known as Wildcat. In a world where everyone has powers, both of them have to keep their identities under lock and key.They’re roommates.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 88





	1. oh my god they were roommates

**Author's Note:**

> if there's already an au like this somewhere then i am begging you to link it to me. the idea popped into my head and it's stuck there like a leech and now we're here. i'm really just flying by the seat of my pants lol, sorry for any typos.
> 
> title is lyrics from play with fire by sam tinnesz

Her face still stung from the fight earlier that evening, where She-Ra had fixed a rather well-aimed punch (not that Catra would ever admit it). She groaned and pulled her hood up, letting her hand linger and graze her cheek gently. She winced the moment her fingertips made contact. Yeah, the skin was tender. She didn’t need a mirror to tell that it would bruise. Great. Catra kicked a stone and shoved her hands in her pockets, ducking into a quieter street that would take her home quicker. 

It’s not like she’d ever gotten away unscathed. Catra has had way worse injuries — it comes with being a villain, it comes with going up against the top superheroes in Bright Moon City. But they had lost again, and Catra was getting tired of it. It was just a small-time bank robbery, the Horde needed the cash to fund their future plans. It should have been easy, but for some reason, She-Ra was on their case before the bank doors even swung shut behind her. She stood there with her hands on her hips, her hair and her cape flowing behind her even if there wasn’t any fucking wind. The rest of the bank was empty so they must have known that she was coming. A trap. Fantastic. Catra made a mental note to search for a possible leak in their security so that the heroes didn’t catch wind of any other future plans before getting a face full of She-Ra’s fist.

Catra saw stars as she sputtered and tried reorienting herself. The pain settled in when she could finally see straight, and _holy damn_.

“Th-That hurt! What the fuck happened to swinging around that ancient-ass sword of yours?” She ducked to dodge another hook and tried to kick She-Ra down from under her legs. It didn’t work. Her legs were too thick for that, holding her up steady and strong. God. Catra was fucking screwed and it was all because of She-Ra and her glorious calves. Oh. And probably her super strength too, she thought mildly, as She-Ra grabbed her by the scruff of her collar and held her up to meet her eye. 

“Wildcat,” she greeted, smugness seeping through that oh-so-heroic voice of hers. “Haven’t seen you terrorizing the streets in a while.”

“Maybe it’s you who hasn’t left your tower lately, Princess,” Catra snarked back, still half dazed, hands flailing to grab onto She-Ra’s wrists for some semblance of balance and so that she didn’t accidentally die hanging from her collar like a noose. God, why Entrapta decided to put a fucking collar on her villain costumes, Catra would never know. She had commissioned a costume and told her to just do whatever she wanted, as long as it looked badass. Entrapta had gotten to work immediately — that was the good thing about her, she was enthusiastic about all of her projects and often experimented too much for normal clients’ tastes, but Catra really didn’t care much. Entrapta was infamous for her high-quality technology for low prices, but it was still a gamble with her own chaotic tendencies to go overboard. She had rambled on for an hour about all the cool features she had built into Catra’s suit, specifically the collar but honestly, Catra spaced out for most of it so she had no idea really how to use it outside of communication. She knew how to radio in with it but since that was the extent of her knowledge, she was probably better off just getting a fucking walkie-talkie instead. 

Anyway. Then the rest of “The Rebellion” showed up (Catra always thought it was a dumb name for a hero team — who were they rebelling against? Certainly not the law. They weren’t the underdogs, not in this society), Glitter Queen materializing out of thin air and immediately jumping into action, The Archer at her side. This ended up working in Catra’s favour. She-Ra could have easily handled her on her own, but they had used the element of surprise to their _disadvantage_. When they popped in out of nowhere She-Ra’s grip had loosened by a hair and Catra reacted fast, twisting out and swiftly landing on her feet. She didn’t bother trying to go for She-Ra’s god-tier calves again, so instead, she fled. It wasn’t like she was losing much by running; her pride had been shattered a long time ago. She never did understand what was so bad about running away. She was surrounded by people who “went down fighting,” gritting their teeth and diving back in even when it was obviously a losing battle. The villains did it all the time — they had nothing else to lose except a little more of their blood, already stained and spilled, hell, some of them prayed for it, to hurry up and die in a blaze of poisoned glory, die because it was their only way out. Heroes did it all the time — they wore their hero complexes like medals, polished them with unrelenting praise and the thousands of people kneeling in front of them, kissing up to them so they might have a celebrity story to tell their great-grandchildren. There was a difference between them though; Heroes always win eventually.

Because of this, they trailed her out of the bank and into the city’s maze of alleyways, because nothing could ever really be easy for Catra. She knew the darkest corners, which dumpsters she could hide in and which sewers were the least disgusting and which corners she could disappear behind — she had lived in this city her whole life. The heroes did too, but they had class. They probably grew up in the nicer houses uptown, two stories and gardens and private schools, living comfortably and never stopping to think about the kids who live just outside their rich little bubble who are starving for attention. They’re normal, with normal powers like telekinesis or invisibility and not _half-cat_ out of everything. Well. Catra counts herself lucky, sometimes. She knows that people like Kyle had it worse. He was born without any powers, and even though the villains took him in like they take anyone with unconventional powers and a hatred towards society, Kyle was still bullied to the point where Catra almost felt bad for him. But she had her own shit to deal with, so when she saw little white lines littered over his arms and bruises under his eyes, or when she walked in on him sobbing behind the bathroom stalls after dinner, or being beaten up by some of the force captains, well, she didn’t say anything. It’s not like anyone could help him really. Not in this world. 

Then there are people like Entrapta who fake having a power. Catra doesn’t know why she ever confided in her, but once she was working on her grappling hook after it had broken from yet another encounter with She-Ra and she had whispered, “Are we friends?”

It threw Catra off. She didn’t really have any friends — there was Adora, but that was a long time ago, and there was Scorpia, but she was pretty annoying. “Um. Sure.” 

“Then you should probably know,” she said mildly, not even looking up from what she was working on, “that I don’t have any abilities.” 

She didn’t quite know what to say to that, so she didn’t say anything. She assumed that Entrapta had superintelligence or some sort of mental power (which must have been her intention), but the fact that she didn’t was impressive. That meant all her intellect came from her own hard work. Catra could respect that. 

“Cool villain backstory, bro.” 

She finally glanced up from her project, pushing up her safety mask to look Catra in the eye with sincerity so startling that Catra’s elbow almost slipped from where it was propped up on the counter. “I’m not a villain. Not really, anyway. And, well…” she pulled her mask back on, bringing their moment to a close, “I don’t think you are either.” 

Catra scoffed and left it at that, but it did linger somewhere in the back of her head. People told her she was a villain all the time — the heroes, the civilians, Adora’s weird friends who complain because she ate all the Takis in Adora’s cupboards. Adora never minded though. She knew what she was getting into when she offered to let Catra stay with her. Roommates, just like they dreamed of being when they were in stupid kids in elementary school, rubbing at their noses and dreaming of things that they didn’t know weren’t possible. Before they had their powers and before they knew what it really meant to have them. Before society ruined them and before everything fell apart. 

Catra scrambled to find her keys, desperate to just sink into the couch and blast music into her headphones and burrito herself in her blankets until the world ended. “I’m home,” she called out when the door swung open. Announcing her presence would have been inconvenient — she didn’t want Adora to see her messed up like this, even if she had already changed out of her costume. That would lead to questions, questions with answers that would get Catra kicked out of the apartment. And probably dropped in a jail cell, honestly. Adora might have a bit of a soft spot for Catra — childhood friends and all — but they weren’t friends anymore, not really. If she outed herself as a villain to her, Adora would surely report her and make sure that she never saw her again. _Maybe that’s what I deserve_ , Catra thought to herself tiredly, slumping face-first into the couch, not even bothering to take off her shoes. Maybe she didn’t deserve Adora’s kindness, especially when she was under the impression that Catra was just a harmless, pitiful dropout looking for a job and not a part of a supervillain organization that terrorizes the city, but Catra needed it. She needed a place to stay. She needed a home she could come back to when her face and her pride were bruised, where she could crash and watch Netflix and ignore her internal moral conflicts. 

Anyway, the house was empty. Adora was probably still in class or hanging out with those obnoxiously photogenic friends of hers. Catra’s limbs were heavy with fatigue, but she knew if she crashed now she wouldn’t get up until tomorrow afternoon, and, well, she had a film of grime coating her skin from doing hot villain shit and she was itching to take a shower. So she went to the bathroom to turn on the tap and grabbed her clothes while she waited for the shower to heat up and she didn’t really think about anything, just replayed the events of the day. Getting up to the sound of Adora’s obnoxiously loud alarm at ass-in-the-morning before the sun was even fully up. Drifting back asleep with the sounds of brewing coffee and carefree humming. Adora kept her earbuds in most of the time but she hummed along to whatever she was listening to. Catra didn’t know if she was conscious of it or not but honestly she didn’t really mind it anyway. Her music taste wasn’t that bad, not that Catra would ever admit it. 

She tried to remember what she had for breakfast as she braced herself and stepped into the shower. The moment the spray hit her she recoiled because it was still warming up and because it was _water_. Maybe she didn’t eat breakfast. Maybe she went straight to work that morning (which makes her sound productive but really, all “work” entails is lounging around while the higher-ups make the plans and occasionally getting in a fight with a hero. Catra couldn’t believe she got paid, albeit very little and usually stolen, for doing practically nothing with the occasional villainous act of evil). She met up with Scorpia on the way as she did every morning. She said hi to Entrapta as she passed by. She got told to rob a bank. She complained about it to Scorpia, and Scorpia sympathized and got her a bagel from the cafe. Catra munched on the bagel angrily as she put her villain costume on and then got her ass beaten up by She-Ra and went back to the Horde empty-handed.

Catra wondered for a split second if this life was for her. But that was her shower brain talking — she hated water and the only thing that would distract her enough to get through it was questioning her life decisions. It was better to mope in self-pity than it was to think about how the water felt on her skin, how it weighed her down, how it made her throat close up from panic and how it made her want to rip off her fur and scream. Google says it’s sensory overload. Or PTSD or something. Catra really didn’t care, she just wanted better control of it. She had gotten thrown into a river one too many times with Scorpia watching, and she never wants to do that again. Scorpia freaked out because Catra was freaking out and thinking about it made her want to crawl into a hole. Scorpia probably thought she was weak for being afraid of water. Some logical part of her brain argued that Scorpia was too understanding to think that, but the unreasonable part prevailed and Catra decided to close herself off forever and ever and ever. Because if she was coldhearted and insolent then people wouldn’t think she was weak. If she pushed everyone away no one would come close enough to see her break down. 

The only person who really understood was Adora, but that’s because she was there when they were little and when she was weak. It was another reason she was glad that she offered to be roommates — other people might confront her if they heard her having nightmares or freaking out because of water, but Adora didn’t. She kept her mouth shut and just let Catra get through it on her own. It was both annoying to no end and relieving, how well they knew each other. Adora knew some (not all) of her darkest secrets; Catra knew hers. But they weren’t friends. Not really. 

By the time Catra stepped out of the bathroom, dressed and shivering ready to crash, Adora was home, slipping off her sneakers and tossing her keys on the table. “Oh hey, you’re back,” Catra mumbled, drying off her hair with the towel before tossing it in the laundry bin that they kept in the coat closet (because who needed a coat closet, really?). 

“Yeah, I was out with Glimmer and — Oh my god, what happened to you?”

Catra glanced up. Adora’s eyes were creased with worry, and she was inching closer, bringing her hand up closer to her face. Catra blinked and then winced. Right. She had a big ass bruise on her face. 

“Oh, it’s nothing, I, uh, tripped.”

“You tripped,” she said flatly, raising an eyebrow. 

She shrugged. “It looks worse than it is, don’t worry.” 

Adora eyed her warily before sighing. “Whatever you say, Catra. Put some ice on it, at least.”

“Yeah, yeah, I did.” (She didn’t). “Have you eaten? I was gonna order a pizza.” 

Adora shrugged. “I can eat. Cheese for me, please. You putting on Netflix?”

“Wasn’t planning to.” Catra glanced up. Adora never had time to do anything with Catra, not anymore. Occasionally they’d both find themselves half asleep at the couch while the TV played some dumb sitcoms, but they never planned it and they never really acknowledged each other. It came with being roommates and being overworked young adults. 

“Well then plan to. Glimmer’s been bugging me to catch up on Addie and the Princesses of Power so we can watch the movie when it comes out next week.”

Catra snorts. Adora raised an eyebrow. “Of course you’d watch that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You’ve seen it?”

Catra shrugged. Addie and the Princesses of Power was one of those animated fantasy series with magical princesses who fought against forces of evil to save their planet. It was based on a kids’ show from the 80s or something. “I might have heard of it. It’s for babies.” Well. She didn’t hate it or anything (quite the opposite, she had binged the entire series in two days, but Adora didn’t need to know that). Catra could appreciate the LGBTQ representation and the character designs had improved since the 80s, but she would rather drop dead than admit to liking a cartoon. 

“It’s not,” Adora said hotly. Then her voice edged quieter. “We don’t have to watch it.”

“Nah, it’s whatever. I don’t mind.”

She looked thoughtful for a minute, tapping her chin.“Glimmer and Bow like it. Apparently there’s a lesbian couple.” It occurred to Catra that she didn’t know how her roommate felt about the LGBTQ community. She assumed by the tone of her voice that she didn’t mind it, which was good. Catra herself wasn’t exactly straight (could you blame her? Girls were _hot_ ) and she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if her ex-best-friend didn’t accept her for who she liked. It never occurred to her before, but she was glad that she was open to watching this show at least, knowing that the girls might kiss. Catra wondered for a split second if Adora herself was queer — then she waved that thought away immediately. Adora was too pretty, too basic, too stereotypically straight to be anything but (and yeah, she knew that stereotypes were a dumb way to classify people, but come on, this was _Adora_ … there’s no way she was into girls at least. There’s no way Catra ever had a chance). 

While Catra ordered the pizza, Adora threw a blanket on the couch and flipped the TV on to her Netflix account (which she also, thankfully, shared with Catra). Catra knew both their orders by heart — they got the same thing since they were kids. A large cheese pizza, one side with olives and bell pepper. Catra would never understand why Adora liked olives and bell peppers on her pizza, but as long as it didn’t get into her side she didn’t care. It was cheaper to buy a big pizza for them both anyway. They took their halves and usually sunk into their own rooms, because they weren’t friends. Netflix nights like this weren’t common. 

Catra kind of wished they were. 

They got halfway through the first episode while sitting on opposite sides of the sofa, and then the pizza came.

“Oh, Adora, can you pass me my phone? I have to set an alarm.”

Adora grabbed her phone from the coffee table, then paused. “Got somewhere to be?” 

Catra flushed. “An interview,” she muttered. It was kind of embarrassing to be unemployed. Well. She wasn’t completely unemployed, because she was a villain, but still. She needed to get paid more. Once she saved up enough she could stop burdening Adora, stop using her kindness to her advantage. 

Adora beamed. “Good luck! You’ll do great, I know it.”

“Yeah yeah. Gimme my phone.” She reached over to grab it, thus scooting closer. Adora was practically radiating heat, and Catra couldn’t help but draw closer, hoping Adora wouldn’t notice.

They ate half of the pizza by the time the second episode was over. Adora frowned. “I don’t get it. Why didn’t she go with her? Why is Cara upset?” 

Catra realized too late that this show might hit a little too close to home. “Addie left her,” she said bluntly.

“For good reason. They were _evil_. She should have gone with her.”

“Yeah well, that’s what she’s done her entire life. She feels betrayed.”

Her frown only deepened, and a crease appeared between her brows. “I still don’t get it.”

Catra smiled bitterly. “Not everyone is as righteous as you, Adora.”

Adora only hummed. They began the next episode, and Catra was left alone with her thoughts on her life. The episodes blurred into the night, drifted off into their dreams. Catra dreamed of prom. She dreamed of lights kaleidoscoping off of glass columns, she dreamed of melting ice; she dreamed of Adora in a red dress.

When Catra woke up, she was tangled in limbs and the TV was on. Netflix was asking if anyone was still watching. In the background, Cara and Addie were staring intensely at each other, as childhood friends turned enemies with homoerotic tendencies tended to do. Catra really had no idea how it took them so long to finally kiss, honestly. 

In the bleariness, she could make out a loud blaring — her alarm. It was dull and annoying, but not enough to get Catra to snap out of her half-consciousness and turn it off. So she drifted for a while, wondering that it was that was poking at her chest. She sighed, annoyed, and forced her eyes open. There was a half-eaten pizza slice resting on her neck which she threw in the general direction of the box in disgust. Then she groaned and tried to sit up. Adora stirred. Catra was hit with the realization that the thing she was tangled in was _Adora_.

Right. Netflix night. Roommates. Ex-best-friends. 

Her alarm was still blaring. Oh, right. Her interview. She had to get up. 

Careful not to wake Adora, she slipped off the couch and went to go change her clothes and tame her hair. Adora said she’d do great. Maybe she would. Maybe this job could be the start to her new beginning.

Catra let the door shut behind her, smiling sardonically. _Yeah, right._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i tried to write catra angry but it didn't work she's just angsty. 
> 
> also fourth wall? who's she? i only know of addie and the princesses of power.


	2. i'm a bad bitch you can't kill me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which she-ra gets a bullet to the leg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol what is happening.

Her interview was a bust. The lady took one look at her and decided she was useless — said that she wasn’t suited for this kind of job. Right. She wasn’t really suited for any kind of job, really. No one needed a half-cat highschool dropout to man their registers. It would scare their customers away. They’d rather have someone with a photographic memory, to remember numbers, or telekinesis, to grab things more efficiently. Adora could easily get a job, with her looks, her charm, her transcript, and her  _ strength _ . Adora had some sort of enhancement power, and her bulk was useful for any kind of job. Why would they hire Catra when they could hire someone like her? What could her fur and her ears and her fucking  _ tail _ offer anyone? 

Wallowing at yet another failed interview, Catra didn’t want to go straight home because it would only get her more depressed, so she trudged to a library instead and read comics until the sun set. She liked comics, especially the ones with vigilantes. She thought it would be cool to break the law and do something besides stealing for once. But that didn’t pay at all. She wasn’t a billionaire with a strong sense of duty or anything. It’s not like she really had any other choice, being a villain was all she was good for. She had the claws, she had the rugged look, and most of all, she had the tragic backstory. Maybe she would apply as a force captain for the Horde. Maybe then she’d be paid more. 

Or hell, maybe she could use her skill for personal crimes. She could just go rob a bank on her own, without consulting the Horde. What would they do, sue her? She could just keep all the money. But if anyone caught wind of it, it would be the end of her. The heroes would get her in no time without the villains’ support. The villains would ruin her for betraying them. It wasn’t worth it. She just had to get by with what she had. She wondered how far Adora’s charity would stretch. What would she do after she graduated and decided she didn’t want to live in a shitty apartment and pay all the rent? When she wanted a house and when she wanted to get married and start a family and be a successful and functional human being? Of course, Catra couldn’t follow her that far. She wouldn’t do that. But she only had another two years until Adora was done with college, and then she would be truly on her own. 

She took a deep breath. In and out. She’d figure it out when it came to it. Two years. By then, she’ll hopefully have enough saved up to get by. She could probably stay with the villains — that’s what Scorpia and Entrapta did, but she didn’t want to be in debt with the Horde. She didn’t want to be tied down like that. 

Her phone rang. Usually, she might ignore it, but it was beeping instead of ringing — that meant it was a villain-related call, probably from Scorpia. So she picked up. 

“What do you want?”

“Erm, well…” Scorpia stammered. “I know you’re off-duty, but there’s uh. A situation, and it’s near your neighbourhood, I wouldn’t have called otherwise. You don’t have to if you’re busy or anything, we can handle it but Lonnie said I should call you and—”

“Spit it out, will you?” 

“Okay, okay. Um. She-Ra, we got her. Kind of.”  
“Kind of?” 

“Lonnie shot her in the leg.”

“And it  _ worked _ ?” She-Ra was supposed to be invulnerable or something.

“Yeah, Entrapta made these bullets and, well, that’s not the point. She got away, she’s in the alleyways. We lost her. You’re around, so if you could help that would be awesome.”

Huh. She-Ra was bleeding out somewhere in her neighbourhood, exposed. That… well that sucked for her. Catra dug into her bag and pulled her mask on. The rest of her costume didn’t really matter, it was mostly for show anyway. This was just in case she accidentally ran into She-Ra. The streets were already mostly empty anyway, now that it was dark. It was like a maze, this part of Brightmoon, but after living here for long enough she knew the streets like the back of her hand. And if She-Ra was smart enough to be able to disappear down here, then maybe she was more of a lower city girl than she thought. Usually, heroes were rich and lived uptown and were never subjected to poverty and whatnot, but if She-Ra strayed all the way out here… 

That was something to think about. 

She didn’t change directions or anything, just went home at a brisker pace, peeking into the darker streets for any sign of a glowing hero in need of medical attention. If she looked up, she could see a light on one of the rooftops — that was probably Scorpia or Lonnie. Most of the villains liked to have the higher ground, it was easier to win like that. Catra knew that staying up there wouldn’t do them much good though. If She-Ra had sunk, then why would you search the surface?

Catra thought after a while of searching with not even a hint of life breaking through the eerie silence of the night that She-Ra might have actually gotten the medical attention she needed. But there would have been an ambulance, there would have been light, shouts, something. It was quiet. It was too quiet. It gave Catra chills. 

When she made it to the last block before her apartment, she had given up hope. This was the last alley, if she wasn’t here then Catra would go home and mope and let the heroes and the villains sort this out on their own. 

She kicked an empty soda can deeper into the shadows before turning to leave. It clattered, and then it groaned. Catra froze. Wait. Soda cans don’t groan. 

Damn. And she was so close to getting home and not being bothered by this. 

“Is someone there?” Catra said to the darkness. The darkness didn’t reply. A beat of silence. Huh. Maybe the soda can  _ did  _ groan. “She-Ra?” she called out, this time more tentatively. She heard a sharp inhale, and then a whimper. Right. Inanimate objects didn’t make human sounds, unfortunately. 

Catra sighed and turned to dig around her bag. She kept a first aid kit wherever she went, for obvious reasons, but she didn’t think she could actually treat a bullet wound. Hopefully She-Ra had some kind of enhanced healing aspect to her power or something. Otherwise, she’d die or whatever. 

She walked closer as if she was approaching a scared animal, holding her kit out in front of her like a weapon. She could see pretty well in the dark, it came with having feline abilities, but just because she could doesn’t mean She-Ra could. She might have recognized her voice and realized that a villain had finally caught up with her, which is exactly what happened, but it’s not like Catra was going to  _ kill _ her or anything. She had no interest in killing the heroes, unlike some of the other villains she knew. Scorpia and Entrapta were like that too, but that came as no surprise. They were timid villains, they had the backstories and they had a reason to hate society but they, not unlike Catra, only did crime because they had no other choice. 

Catra winced when she turned the corner. She-Ra was there alright, curled up and weakly trying to put pressure on her leg, which was gushing blood. Catra had no idea how she had stayed conscious for so long. Her eyes were fluttering, but they snapped up to meet Catra’s when she took a step closer. Unfocused. Terrified. Hell, they were slightly glowing blue. She-Ra blanched when she saw her mask through the dark. It was a pretty recognizable mask — black and covered mostly the right side of her face in a cracked pattern that laced across her cheeks like filigree, but in a spooky way that only villains could pull off. She-Ra probably thought she was going to kill her or something.

Catra sat down to try and survey the wound. “You didn’t call for help? 911?” she asked skeptically. She-Ra let out a strangled laugh. 

“Yeah, well. Secret identities, y’know.”

“Yeah… I do.” But didn’t she have a team? Didn’t she have anyone she could call? Glitter Queen or The Archer or whatever. They had to know she was out here. She-Ra had used her cape to cover the wound and had started putting pressure, although weakly because she was bleeding out. Catra half wondered why she even bothered if she didn’t expect any immediate help, but near-death situations make people do weird things. Her thoughts ran away from her as she worked swiftly, pulling out a tourniquet that she luckily kept in her kit and tightening it right above the wound to slow the blood flow. She had dealt with one too many gunshot wounds in her life. It occurred to her all at once that She-Ra’s survival was on her hands, and that was a bit too much for her brain to handle. 

“What about your friends?” Catra asked in a voice that she hoped was conversational and didn’t reveal the stress she was feeling about being responsible for a life  _ again _ . 

“I… hah, they uh. Don’t know I went out.” Her voice was breathy and strained, but honestly, the fact that she wasn’t passed out was a miracle. Maybe it did have something to do with her powers. Man, Catra would  _ kill _ for enhanced healing. “I didn’t want them to worry,” She-Ra muttered quietly.

Catra was struck nearly speechless by her… by her stupid heroic need to sacrifice herself, or whatever. Luckily she found use of her tongue so she could tell her off. “You… you didn’t want them to worry? Dude, you’re  _ dying _ . They should be fucking worried.”

“Nah… not dying. Just. Sleeping.”

Catra really couldn’t believe this. She could… she could easily get help. And she wasn’t. She had privilege, she had a cool job, she had millions of admirers and a strong moral code and she had everything, how was she so willing to lose it all for, what, her pride? “Oh my fucking god. Call your dumbass friends, princess.”

“That’s… smart I guess.”

“Yeah, I’m fucking brilliant. Where’s your phone? Or whatever.”

“I got it,” she muttered, reaching to her wrist and tapping a cool-looking watch there a couple of times. Catra watched (hah) curiously. She-Ra gritted her teeth and let her wrist drop limply as the device rang. 

“Why are you calling as She-Ra?” a bored and all-too-familiar voice picked up. Glitter Queen. 

“Hey, Gli-Glitter Queen. I. Um. Got into a situation, I—” she let out a shaky breath as she shifted to a higher position. “I…” 

“She-Ra? Are you okay? What’s going—”

“She got fucking shot,” Catra cut in because they were talking too slow. 

The line fell quiet. “Is that  _ Wildcat _ ?! What do you want with She-Ra?”

Catra pinched the bridge of her nose. “Nothing. I just thought you’d like it if she didn’t bleed out.”

“Is that a  _ threat _ ?”

She threw her arms up in the air in exasperation. “If you want it to be!” 

She-Ra “Queen, it’s fine. It’s. I’m injured. Wildcat uh,” she glanced up at Catra, unsure. Catra shrugged, shoving her hands in her pockets. “Wildcat helped?”

“How the fuck are you even conscious,” Catra asked bluntly. 

“Magic,” She-Ra gritted out. “Anyway, um. If you could like, come get me, that would be… cool. Yeah. Cool.”

Glitter Queen made a strangled sound that sounded too much like ‘dumbass’ before saying, “Yeah, of course. Try to stay conscious, don’t hang up. We’ve got your location, I’ll be there in a minute.”   
Catra, logically, should have left then. Heroes were coming and She-Ra would be fine, and if they caught her loitering around then surely, she’d be arrested. But for some reason, she stayed. Curiosity killed the cat, after all. She began to properly wrap the wound in gauze. It’s not like she really had anything better to do. If she was arrested and got sent to a cell for a lifetime, that took the burden off of Adora at least. 

She shook that thought away just as the alley began to shimmer. A moment later, Glitter Queen was there with a couple of others who she assumed were doctors or something. They looked over She-Ra, who finally let her eyes fall shut, while Glitter Queen stayed behind. She hovered worriedly over her friend but she wasn’t a doctor. Catra was left to stand awkwardly in the shadows. This was her invitation to leave — they were too focused on saving She-Ra to arrest her. She shifted the weight in one leg to the other and Glitter Queen’s gaze snapped to her in a glare, as if sensing her thoughts. 

“Wildcat,” she greeted lowly. 

“Princess.” Catra spared a glance at She-Ra, who was being lifted up in a stretcher.

Her eyes softened and then turned tired. “Thank you,” she said, then turned around. With just a touch, Glitter Queen, She-Ra, and all the paramedics poofed away in a flurry of glitter, and Catra was left alone in the alleyway next to a pool of still blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be adora's pov.


	3. mother trucker dude, that hurt like a butt cheek on a stick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> adora can't sit still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes all the chapter titles are vines.

Adora was in a daze. She was on painkillers and all that. She had never been more grateful for Perfuma and her healing abilities. Adora had her own version of invulnerability, but just because she could stand with a bullet in her leg did not mean it didn’t hurt like hell. Even after it healed, it was sore — they had managed to get the bullet out and close up the wound with Perfuma’s help, and Adora had gotten some sleep after that exhausting night. She couldn’t even remember what she was doing out so late, but she remembered the bullet and she remembered running, and she remembered collapsing behind a dumpster and thinking in a delirious haze that she’d be fine after a good night’s rest. And then  _ Wildcat _ out of all people had found her, and She-Ra finally wondered if she might die there. It was a poor way to go; Adora always thought if she were to get killed, it would be while protecting someone else. That’s what people always told her, anyway. 

But then she didn’t die. Wildcat had tried to help her, and then called her out for being stupid. Usually she wasn’t so self-sacrificial, but she had lost a lot of blood and it made sense at the time. She didn’t want people to worry. Glimmer had gotten her back and chided her for being a dumbass, and Adora had spaced out, wondering why her enemy might try to help. Glimmer didn’t mention it, so Adora was left to think about her alone. She floated in and out of consciousness as her body took the energy it needed to heal. She dreamed of darkness and gunshots and masquerade masks. She dreamed of static and voices stirring in her consciousness,  _ “Not everyone is as righteous as you, Adora.” _

When she woke up finally, it was past noon. She was laying in the guest room of Glimmer and Bow’s apartment, which they kind of used as a base for their hero team because it was in the middle of town and they didn’t have any roommates that were still in the dark. She had probably missed one of her lectures but she had better things to worry about than class. She could catch up over the weekend. Glimmer was forbidding her from doing patrol for at least two weeks anyway, so she had more time on her hands than she knew what to do with. The thought of doing nothing made her feel restless — she couldn’t just take it easy. She had to keep herself busy, she had to be a hero, she had to save lives. She had been too late too many times in her career and every time it happened, Adora only worked harder. People relied on her and she couldn’t let them down, not now, not ever. 

She had been a hero long enough to know that she couldn’t save everyone, but she would try anyway. She had to.

Her thoughts shifted to her roommate. She hadn’t gone home that night. Catra wasn’t one to worry about her, but she was the only person close in her life that didn’t know her superhero identity. She had been preparing herself to reveal it at some point, but was too afraid of her reaction. She had known Catra for most of their lives, her oldest friend. They knew each other better than anyone else and even though they had grown apart during their high school years, Adora still considered her a friend and had easily offered her a place to stay when she had an extra room and Catra had nothing. They knew their childhood secrets and biggest dreams and worst nightmares, but in the few years that they didn’t even wave when they passed each other, Adora had gotten closer to Glimmer and Bow, and together, the three of them had decided to become heroes. And then she never told Catra. It was hard to hide it sometimes, but Adora had gotten good at it — but Catra would ask about her leg, why she had a crutch. Adora could lie to her, but they would both know that it wasn’t true. Catra wouldn’t pry. She lied too — hell, she lied the night before about the bruise on her cheek. Adora could only guess where she had gotten it. But she didn’t pry. It hurt that Catra couldn’t tell her everything, but it was only fair, because Adora had secrets too. 

She thought about watching Addie and the Princesses of Power with her. It was the most at peace she had felt in months, curling up on the couch and pigging out and watching cartoons with her roommate. It was easy, it was normal. It was like they were kids again. Adora wondered for the millionth time where their childhood friendship went wrong. She was afraid to rekindle it, she didn’t deserve to. Not when Catra didn’t know about She-Ra. 

Adora would tell her, eventually. But she needed a Netflix night like that one more time before she crushed Catra’s trust in her. 

“Oh hey, you’re up!” Bow said, letting the door swing open. “How are you feeling, Adora? You had us worried.”

“I’m fine, I guess. Just sore.” She stretched her arms out over her head and tried to crack her neck, turning it in a slow circle. “These next two weeks are going to be annoying.”

“Of course you’d think that,” Bow said, nudging her shoulder playfully. “Seriously, when was the last time you took time for yourself and  _ relaxed _ ?”

“The night before,” she said mildly. Bow raised an eyebrow. 

“Really?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

“... Can you blame me?”

She pushed him away, faking offense. “Glimmer wanted me to catch up on that cartoon, so I did.”

“Addie and the Princesses of Power?” Glimmer asked, sauntering in as if in que. Adora nodded. 

“Yeah. I got like halfway through the first season before falling asleep. Catra ordered a pizza.”

“You watched it with _ Catra _ ?”

Adora paused, tilting her head to the side. “Yeah. Why?”

Glimmer grinned as if she knew something. “No reason. Did Catra like it?”

Adora scowled at the suggestiveness in her voice and then shrugged. “I think so. She said it was for little kids but wasn’t opposed to watching it.”

Glimmer tapped her chin and Bow stifled a laugh. “I wonder why…” 

“What are you trying to imply?” Adora asked, feeling her ears flare up. 

“Nothing, it’s nothing. You guys are roommates and childhood friends, and she’s kind of a bitch — ”

“Don’t call her that,” Adora snapped.

“ — but you’re protective of her. You pay rent for her.”

“She’s my friend. I’m helping her until she can get back on her feet. We’ve had this conversation before,” Adora muttered, annoyed. They indeed had. At first, Glimmer was convinced that Catra was manipulating Adora to let her freeload and bleed her dry like a couch crashing cat-vampire hybrid. Catpire. Whatever. But as time went on it became clear that Catra just kind of existed in Adora’s space, and they didn’t really try to bother each other, and finally Glimmer had laid off and teased her about it instead. 

“We have. It’s just a curious situation.”

“I still have no idea what you’re trying to imply.”

“Glimmer, leave her alone. She’ll figure it out eventually,” Bow said finally. “I’ll go get you something to eat, you must be starving. It’s past lunch.”

Bow was right. Adora was hungry, she didn’t notice until he had said so. She was lucky to have friends who reminded her that eating was a thing that people had to do to survive, more than average for her specifically because She-Ra drained a lot of her energy. “Yeah. Food. I can get it myself, Bow, don’t worry.” She moved to sit up and her leg spiked up with pain. Adora took a sharp breath. Her painkillers were useless, apparently. 

“Adora, don’t be stupid,” Glimmer cut in. “Just sit and rest, we’ve got you.”

“I can’t just rest all day. I have things to do. University. And uh. A roommate who might worry if I disappear for over a day.”

Bow threw her phone at her. “Text her then. You’re injured from tripping on the stairs and you’re staying with us for a bit.”

“She’ll know I’m lying.”

“She always does. Just do it so she doesn’t worry. We’ll go grab you some food, okay?” 

Adora nodded reluctantly. “I could get it myself…”

“We know,” Bow said, shooting an amused look at Glimmer. “Tell Catra we say hi.”

Then they both scurried out of the room and Adora was left alone. She stared at the blank screen of her phone for a moment before turning it on and shooting a quick text to Catra, and then she clicked off and started scrolling through the news. Being a hero meant that she had to keep up with current events, but honestly, there wasn’t much going on anyway. They had taken down this huge drug ring two months ago but that was the last time something big happened. With the abundance of heroes came a safe city, so most of her time as a hero was spent catching low level criminals and getting pets out of trees. There was the Horde, but honestly they were kind of a mess. They didn’t seem to have big plans, more like smaller heists that might eventually build up to something big, but Adora doubted they’d ever get there. Every Horde villain she had met was kind of incompetent — except maybe Wildcat, but maybe she was biased. Wildcat had been kind of her arch nemesis since her hero debut. She was the first villain she ever faced off, and she’s pretty sure she’s the first hero that Wildcat has ever had to battle too. There’s never a winner or a loser when they fight, usually Wildcat retreats and Adora loses her. It’s a game of cat and mouse but Wildcat is, ironically enough, not the cat. 

And, well, she helped her. Which was cool. Adora really had to figure her out someday. She was a villain, obviously, and she was pretty rude judging from the witty banter they share when they face off. She bosses around her accomplices and she yells a lot, but she, to Adora’s knowledge, has never killed a person. In fact, she seems to actively avoid it. At one point she was suspected of a string of seemingly random acts of arson, but there were never any casualties from those. They were also all structures that were built by greedy rich assholes over indigenous land, so Adora wasn’t complaining. Maybe she was a bit of a vigilante, but she was still affiliated with the Horde, so a villain with an… interesting moral code, perhaps. 

Bow and Glimmer came back with avocado toast and coffee, what she ate for breakfast every morning. It felt a bit disorienting to eat when the sun streaming through the blinds was a bright afternoon yellow instead of soft and hazy like it was early in the morning, but Adora didn’t mind it. She practically gobbled up toast and downed her coffee in one go. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

“You never do,” Glimmer said, watching in amusement. Adora put her plate to the side and tried to get up again. She ignored the pain in her leg and swung them over the edge of the bed. 

“What are you doing?” Bow asked, already getting up to help her. 

“I’m not sitting in bed all day. It’s healed, isn’t it? The bullet is out and it stopped bleeding. Now we have things to do.”

“Yeah, we have things to do. Your only job is to get better.”

“But the villains who shot me are still out there — they have tech that renders my invulnerability useless, I can’t just sit back!”

“Yes you can. You have a concussion and a healing leg — yes, it’s healing, just because it’s not bleeding doesn’t mean it’s better.”

“Ugh. Fine. But I can still help — with cases, and stuff. You can’t keep me in the dark about hero stuff. I’ll skip patrols, but we need to talk about what happened.”

Glimmer sighed. “Yeah. You’re right. We can talk. There’s a lot going on. Gotta start somewhere, I guess.”

“What happened to Wildcat, anyway? It’s blurry… she got away?”

“She didn’t get away.” Bow shot a dirty look to Glimmer, who looked sheepish. “Glimmer let her go.”

“I was busy, anyway, trying to stop you from bleeding out and whatnot.”

“I don’t blame you,” Adora murmured. “Wildcat is… well, she’s a character all right. I can’t wrap my head around her. She sounded very… causal. Flippant. I don’t know, she didn’t really care about what happened to me but she did want to help. She didn’t want to leave me to die.”

“Huh.”

“Huh.”

“Spectacularly unhelpful, you guys. Help me pin her down. What could her motivations possibly be?”

“Maybe she doesn’t have any,” Bow said. “It’s not like she has to have a singular thing that drives her — she’s not a comic book villain, she’s a real person. Maybe her moral compass shifts by the day. It sure seems like it.”

“Maybe she’s just in it because it pays,” Glimmer added. “There aren’t many prerequisites to be a villain — maybe she had no other choice.”

It was Adora’s turn to say, “Huh.” She thought about what Catra said the other night. It had never even crossed her mind that being a villain was an option — she never had a reason to, so it baffled her that people chose that path. Being a hero meant she was in the spotlight, and the longer she stayed in the spotlight, the more she saw the world as white and black. When you’re standing on a stage it’s hard to see the grey spots that blur between the shadows in the corners, and Adora felt ashamed that she had spent so long showing off. Maybe she should step away for a little while — but being a hero was all she knew.

God, before that Netflix night with Catra, when was the last time she felt like a normal person?

“And the bullet,” Glimmer said, pulling her out of her thoughts. She eyed her leg curiously. “It was laced with something — otherwise, it was a completely normal bullet. Who shot you? It wasn’t Wildcat, was it?”

Adora shook her head, swallowing the lump forming in her throat. “No, but they were from the Horde.” 

Bow let out a low whistle. “Which makes Wildcat even more of an enigma…”

“Yeah. Either the Horde is very shitty at communication, or she ignored orders in favour of helping me.”

“Or this is a ploy,” Glimmer mused. “Maybe they’re trying to get us to trust her so she can, I don’t know, get in close and spy.” 

“I don’t know. She seemed… genuine. Maybe the bullet was a mistake… maybe they misfired. Or didn’t think it would work.”

“Maybe they were just testing it out,” Bow added thoughtfully. “A bullet that can hurt you…” 

She sighed and pulled her blanket over her head. If that was a test drive, then they had the results they wanted. They had technology that could seriously turn the tide, and not in a good way. The Horde could grow to be a serious threat to Bright Moon if they knew how to make weapons like that, which was worrying at the very least. Adora bounced her good leg restlessly. She was already itching to spar, to punch something. She turned her phone on in order to try and distract herself and noticed that Catra had texted her back. She grinned and tapped out a couple more messages, watching as they blinked with ‘read’ signs.

  
**meowmeow**

_ so i fell down the stairs and screwed up my leg _

_ stayed w/ glimmer and bow 4 the night, might stay the rest of the day _

_ they say hi btw _

_ lol good going dumbass _

_ dont u dare watch apop w/o me _

_ wow so i almost die and all u care about is if i get ahead of u in a cartoon? _

_ thats low catra _

_ u know nothings too low 4 me _

_ i thought it was a show for babies anyway _

_ shut up  _

Messing with her was just too much fun. Adora felt grateful sometimes that Catra lived with her, even if she was paying rent. Catra was the only aspect of her life that wasn’t tied to her hero career, and maybe that was just another reason she had held onto her secret for so long. With Catra, Adora was just Adora, not superhero She-Ra. Catra didn’t expect anything from her, they had a mutual respect for each other and Adora was terrified that if she threw She-Ra into the mix, she’d ruin their already delicate friendship. 

It wasn’t fair to Catra, but didn’t Adora, after all this time, deserve to have this for herself? She wasn’t selfish enough to think this could last forever, but she wanted to hold onto this for as long as she could. 

Her gaze drifted off her screen to the foot of her bed, where her leg was wrapped in enough gauze that she couldn’t see skin under it. After today she could take it off, which would be impossible without a combination of her and Perfuma’s abilities. Good. She didn’t want to be dragged down like this. She would only have to use a crutch for a couple days, but the Hero Alliance wouldn’t let her get back until next week or she’d be suspended from hero activity, and Glimmer wanted to be safe so if she saw her out before two weeks then Adora would have to deal with an angry Glimmer. 

She shuddered. Angry Glimmer was scary. 

Bow came into the room once again (she didn’t even notice him leave) and plopped a box on her lap. “This is depressing. You’re restless. Let’s play a board game.”

Adora looked curiously at the box, and then threw her head back in a laugh. “Monopoly? Oh, you’re on.”

—

When Adora got home later that night, the cast was off and she was walking with crutches. Catra was splayed across the couch with a bag of chips on her lap, clicking away on her phone. She looked up when the door opened and eyed her leg, before offering her a two-fingered salute. “‘Sup.”

“‘Sup.”

For a split second, there was silence that neither of them knew how to break. Adora was worried that Catra might say something about her injury, and Adora was exhausted enough that she didn’t think she had it in her to lie. But then Catra made some space on the couch and waved her over. “You order the pizza this time. What episode were we on?” 

Adora grinned and slumped down next to her (closer than personal space would usually permit, but Catra wasn’t complaining so Adora got comfortable). “The prom one, I think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh, writer's block.


End file.
